


Red Hills, Red Hair, Red Hearts

by SaoirseKennedy



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseKennedy/pseuds/SaoirseKennedy
Summary: Dick is freaking out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what this is, but I just wanted to write Lew comforting Dick because we always see it the other way around. 
> 
> Also there's probably grammatical errors, since I wrote this super quickly. I hope you enjoy it anyways!

Dick is freaking out. Of course, Dick freaking out is not like anyone else freaking out; at first glance, it looks like he’s only calming strolling around his room. But Dick Winters is a complicated man, and his freak outs are hard to spot. 

Nix doesn’t notice when Dick isn’t at dinner. Dick always has something to do; when he’s not impressing the higher ups, he’s cleaning his bunk, or pressing his shirts. Sometimes he’s running, voluntarily, around the base. Really, Nix is lucky if Dick makes an appearance before seven at night, which Nixon thinks is the height of tragedy. Normally, when Nix is feeling especially starved of attention, he’ll track Dick down, and force him to have dinner with the rest of the officers, instead of sneaking into the mess with all the other soldiers later on. 

Tonight, though, Nix is tired, and sleepily eats his way through some meatloaf, which has been just overloaded with enough salt to make it edible. He doesn’t listen to Harry jabbering on about Pennsylvania or Kitty, or whatever shit thing Sobel has done now. 

“Lewis,” Harry snaps, once he’s caught on. 

“Yeah, Harry?” Nix’s head threatens to hit the table, both in boredom and exhaustion. 

“You know you’re a shit friend right?” but Harry is smiling. 

Nixon thinks of ragging on himself, but decides he’s too tired. He just rolls his eyes and gets up, eager to fall into bed. 

He’s halfway to his quarters when he sees that Dick’s light is on. Now, that’s not abnormal in itself, but in the small time Nix has been walking in front of the building, Dick has passed the window three times. Nix makes a beeline for the door. 

“Permission to come aboard, sir?” Lew adopts a funny smile, waiting for Dick to retort. 

“Hey, Nix,” Dick stops pacing, but Nix can already tell something is off. 

“You know, Dick, we do have a track, if you want to do laps. It might be merciful on the floors here,” Nix lets himself in, shrugging out of his jacket and plopping into Dick’s desk chair. 

Dick didn’t even roll his eyes at him, and that’s what made Nix very suspicious. He stilled, focusing in on Dick. 

“So,” Lew says while Dick turns back to his pacing. “How was your day, honey?” 

This draws Dick’s attention. His eyes go very wide, but narrow quickly. It’s like he finally realizes Lew is there. Lewis smiles up at him curiously. Of course, he knew that comment would make Dick look, but really he only said it in self-indulgence. 

“I miss Lancaster,” Dick says bluntly. “I haven’t gotten a letter from my parents in two weeks.” 

This hits Nix like a bad pitch to the knees. His mind reels for a second before he nods. “Well, the holidays are coming up, it’s busy, it could’ve gotten lost in the post,” he says, reasonably. 

But Nix has misinterpreted what Dick is getting at. “No, Lew, I’m not worried about them,” he puts his hands out, and Nix tries very hard to keep up. 

“Okay?” 

“I never thought I’d be waiting on a letter from my parents,” Dick explains. 

“But you just said you weren’t worried about it,” Lew is confused. Dick doesn’t usually talk like this. 

“I never thought I’d miss them,” Dick says more to himself than to Lewis. “I guess I never thought I’d be gone this long.”

“Well you couldn’t expect that the Nazis would just casually stop invading Europe, could you?” Nix chuckles, but the joke doesn’t land, and Dick just stares. It doesn’t even look like he’s seeing Lewis; it’s a forty-yard stare that makes Lew twitchy. 

“Dick,” he says, a little bit louder than before. 

“What am I doing?” Dick asks. He’s still staring, just above Lew’s head. It’s weird, seeing Dick out of uniform, all tucked into his nice officer’s bedroom, with a clean undershirt on. He’s frighteningly casual; if Lewis didn’t know any better, it might seem like they weren’t in the army at all. They could be at Dick’s house, chatting about their non-war filled lives. 

“For one, you’re kind of freaking me out. It’s usually me who’s cryptic,” Lew gets out of Dick’s seat, and sort of circles where Dick’s standing. He’s still in full uniform, his clunky boots far too loud on the wooden floors. “What’s going on in that red head of yours?” Lew wishes he hadn’t said that, because now all he can think about is running his hands through Dick’s hair, which of course, he would never do. 

“I didn’t even want to join the army,” Dick says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking down. It seems like he’s admitting a mortal sin. “I just came because I wanted to get my one year of service out of the way,” he chuckles at the end of the sentence. 

“One year,” Nix echoes. 

“I thought, well I’m in it now,” Dick sighs, thinking of his younger self. “I might as well make myself useful. I’ll join the paratroops, they’re the best of the best,” Dick makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “But now look at me.”

“You’re the best of the best,” Nix says, very seriously. 

“I have to lead men, Lew,” Dick rolls off of the compliment, throws it away like it wasn’t even there. “I am responsible for their deaths.”

“First of all Dick,” Lewis gets closer, putting his hands on Dick’s shoulders. He can feel his body heat rolling off in waves from his torso. “We’re still in Georgia. No one’s died,” he raises his eyebrows, trying to get Dick to concede to at least that. “Secondly, stop talking like we’re already dead,” Dick flinches, “You’re going to lead us to victory,” now Lewis Nixon wasn’t one to beat the patriotic drum of war, but he was completely sincere in his words to Dick. Dick was dedicated, driven to be good, simply out of principal. It was the rarest gift Lew could think of. 

“I’m just a kid from Pennsylvania,” he says quietly, suddenly sounding like anyone besides Dick Winters. 

“So?” Nix shakes his head, utterly perplexed by Dick’s sudden self-consciousness. “The army doesn’t give two shits where you’re from.” 

“I never thought,” Dick trails off, looking Lew in the eye for the first time in several minutes. “Why did you join the army?” 

And wasn’t that a loaded question? Nix scrunches his nose. Really, truly, Nixon joined the army because he wanted to run away. He was a runner. He ran away from his governesses in New York, he ran away from his first girlfriend, ran from the Catholic Church, ran from Yale. His entire life he had been running away from his parents. The army was providing a way to run away from life, perhaps permanently. The fact that Lew might die was almost a comfort to him. 

But Lewis couldn’t say this to Dick. It would hurt Dick, because he was a good friend, and would worry for Lew, which he was doing too much anyways. So Nix smiles, and tells a half truth. “I wanted to join the army to piss my parents off.” 

“Why would it piss your parents off?” 

“My family is full of navy men, Dick. My grandfather single-handedly designed naval vessels. The best the world has ever seen,” Lew didn’t care what kind of boats they were; Lew was not stepping foot on one ever in his entire life. 

Dick favors him with a fond smile. He still looks out of sorts though, so Lewis keeps chattering. “I suppose I thought I’d be out of here in a year too. Then Pearl Harbor happened, and I realized I was stuck,” Lewis had hoped war would break out, selfishly, so he wouldn’t be sent back to New Jersey. That was another thing he kept tucked away in his head. 

“Why did you join the airborne?” Dick cracks his knuckles, and Lew is weirdly comforted by the sound. “It couldn’t have been for the extra fifty bucks.” 

Lewis hates lying to Dick; but he can’t tell the truth. It hurts too much, makes him too vulnerable. “I guess I just really wanted to jump out of a perfectly good airplane,” he did want to do that actually, because that’s what Dick wanted to do. 

“Ah,” Dick says, more himself. “Rich Yalie harboring a secret death wish?” he jokes. 

It’s scary how Dick can read him, even when he’s joking. “You’ve got no idea,” and for once in this conversation, it’s not a lie. 

The answer unsettles Dick a bit, though, and like always, he senses Lew’s trepidation. They’re still standing in the middle of the room, Dick in his pajamas, more or less, and Nix, fully clothed, as if ready for a midnight run. Lew’s academic brain annoyingly points out that this would make a good metaphor for the conversation they’re having. 

“I’m sorry,” Dick says flatly. 

“What?” Nix snorts. 

“I didn’t mean to freak out on you,” Dick has gone back to his old self, and Lewis is sort of sad to see the wall of determination and vigor go back up around Dick. 

“You had me shaking in my boots,” Lew feels very tired. He slumps onto Dick’s bed, making clear that he doesn’t want to venture across half of camp back to his own respective room. 

Dick joins him, and sits close, so their shoulders are brushing. “We’re going to war, Lew,” his tongue labors over the one vowel of Lew’s name, making it longer and more pronounced, like he doesn’t want to let it go. 

“Are you scared?” Lewis says. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dick says, non-committedly. “Are you?”

“Nah,” Lewis fakes. “I’m in intelligence,” he pauses, before adding, “I am a bit worried for you, though.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah,” is all Lew can muster. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything else. 

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Dick grates out. “It’s not me I’m worried about.” 

Nixon knows they can run in this track for hours. Nixon can try to convince Dick to give a damn about his own life, instead of men he hasn’t even led into battle yet. But even Nixon feels a sincere and strong tug of loyalty to them. He himself worries about his skills as an officer. He, maybe more than Dick, is very responsible for putting these men on the right course. 

So he doesn’t press Dick on it. “I know,” in a moment of lunacy, Lewis thinks of taking Dick’s hand. He can’t remember when he started feeling this tender towards Dick, but it’s scaring him. He’s going to war, he doesn’t have time for things like this. Things like happiness. 

“I’m worried about you too,” Dick says when they’ve sat in silence for a while. Lewis knows he means it, but a flash of doubt clouds his brain for a second, and he doesn’t respond. Dick touches his shoulder, forces Lewis to look at him. “You do know that right?” he says it like it would be funny for Lew to not believe him. Like it’s such a ridiculous notion. And it is, really, when Lew thinks about it logically. 

But Lewis Nixon isn’t being logical right now. Hell, when is he ever logical with Dick? He wants to assure Dick, to nod vigorously, to laugh at that silly notion. Of course Dick is worried about his best friend, why wouldn’t he be? He’s worried about everyone, of course he’s worried about Lew. 

Lewis is so stuck that he can’t say anything. He nods once, praying to the Lord above that for once in his life, Dick Winters will drop the subject. 

“Lewis,” Dick says, and Nix curses God. 

“What?” he croaks. 

“What is going on in that dark head of yours?” Dick, actually ruffles Lew’s hair at that point, and Lewis thinks he might vomit. 

“Nothin’,” but Lew leans into Dick, because he just isn’t strong enough to resist. 

“Well I would hope not,” Dick tries to tease some life into Lew again, but it falls flat. It’s not his fault, and in all fairness it’s a good joke. “You are the intelligence officer.” 

The gears in Lew’s head start moving again, and he spews words. “I know you’re worried, Dick,” he says it because he knows it’s what Dick wants to hear. And of course Dick is worried, he keeps telling himself. 

Dick pauses, trying to size up Lew. They’re still pressed up against each other, but neither of them seem to notice. Lewis can feel a headache crop up in his temples, and he wishes wholly, that he wouldn’t have walked into Dick’s bedroom. For all of the warmth he felt with Dick right now, he felt almost sick, frightened of things going horribly wrong. It’s horrible, and too familiar for Lew’s taste. 

“Nix,” Dick tries to grapple with what they’re not saying. Nuance has never been one of Dick’s fortes. “We’re going to war. You’re my best friend,” Dick is looking at Lewis with those blue, blue eyes, and damn it, Lewis can’t look away. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried what will happen if I lose you,” Dick is clearly uncomfortable, because he looks away, but his words are sincere. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” Nix says, really wishing he had a drink. 

Dick’s face is painted in confusion, and Lewis hates the way it looks on him. 

“You’re my best friend,” Dick repeats, more like he’s trying to convince himself of this than Lew. 

“I know,” Lewis chuckles, thinking about it. “Funny how that worked out.” 

“You ever think you’d rub elbows with a farmhand?” Dick laughs outright. 

“You are not a farmhand,” Lew rolls his eyes, the knot forming on his heart loosening a bit at the sound of Dick’s voice. He pauses, to make sure Dick can hear him. “You’re a quaker.” 

This makes a peel of exasperation mixed with delight rush out of Dick’s mouth. For a moment, both men are wrapped up in pure happiness. Thoughts of the war are banished while Dick thinks of the rolling hills of Pennsylvania, and Lew imagines Dick in mennonite clothing. 

“How did that rumor even get started?” Dick says once he can breathe again. 

“Oh come on, Dick,” Lewis reaches across to Dick without thinking about it. “You’re as wholesome as apple pie,” Lew doesn’t realize he’s got his hand on Dick’s until Dick moves slightly. He goes to recoil, but Dick leaves his hand firmly under Lew’s. 

Dick snorts. “I’m not a quaker,” he says, as if he needs to prove it. 

“No,” Lew says, voice low. He tentatively grabs Dick’s hand before he can think twice about it. Dick let’s him. “I know you’re not.” 

They sit on Dick’s bed, not saying anything. Lewis doesn’t want to say anything else, for fear of shaking loose something he can’t take back. He grips Dick’s hand with increasing alarm, squeezing until Dick looks at him, new found alarm in his eyes. Dick rubs soothing circles on the back of his hand until Lew feels like he can breathe again. 

“Nix,” Dick starts. He stops short, eyebrows creasing. Lewis knows there’s a long train of thought winding its way through Dick’s head right now, but he bites his tongue, not sure he wants to know what’s going on. Dick doesn’t release his hand though, and for that Lewis is grateful. 

There’s a stuttering pregnant space between them, and it’s dizzying to both men. They’ve lost their equilibrium, but it only shoves them closer together. They’ve fallen, but only into each other. 

Nix wants to say something, to tell Dick everything, but they’re too close to the edge. War is just around the corner, and soon Dick will have bigger things to worry about; Nix will be at Battalion, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything he can to help Dick and Easy. He loves Dick, he knows this, but he would never try to involve Dick in something so wrong. 

Dick doesn’t try to continue his thought. 

“I should go,” Nix says, heaving a sigh. 

“Thanks for stopping by,” Dick says, but he doesn’t let go of Nix’s hand. It’s a formal platitude that almost makes Nix laugh in surprise. 

Finally, he pulls away, and makes for the door. Before he leaves, he turns, casting a long look at Dick. “You gonna be okay?” 

“Sure,” Dick says. 

Nix rolls his eyes, but gives him an encouraging smile before opening the door. He’s halfway out when he hears Dick’s stocking feet bolt towards him. 

“Lew,” comes Dick’s voice, half-desperate and a little unfamiliar. He slides in Nix, pushing him further out of the door. He grips Lew’s shirt, yanking him back into the warmth of the room. 

“Dick?” Lew gets whiplash from how fast Dick closes the door. 

“Lewis,” he’s pushed into Lew’s space, pinning him against the door. He looks confused again. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Just, shush,” Dick says, before suddenly pecking him on the mouth. It’s not deep or romantic, and Lewis can almost convince himself it didn’t happen, that Dick just stumbled and bumped their faces together. But it did happen, and it was sweet, and more than anything Lewis could ever ask for. 

“Dick,” he says, not sure what else to say. 

“You’re my best friend,” he says for the third time. 

This makes Lewis laugh, because of what just happened, but it always makes him frown with concern. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to convince me?” 

Dick puts his hands almost forcefully upon Lew’s shoulders. “It’s important,” his voice drowns a bit in his accent, cutting off vowels before they’ve made it past his nose. It was delightfully Pennsylvanian, and if it were any other time, Lewis would’ve commented on it.

“I know,” he reassures. “Dick, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” 

Dick looks like he’s freaking out again. He’s not looking at Lew, and Lewis takes the opportunity to push them away from the door, back to Dick’s bed. 

It’s then that Dick takes him into an embrace, tucking his read hair under Lew’s chin. Dick seems remarkably like a child, and Lewis is taken aback. 

“Hey,” he whispers. He rubs his hands over Dick’s back, again and again until Dick looks up. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“Don’t be silly,” Lewis tucks his head back onto his shoulder. Dick goes back willingly, and it’s comfortable and soothing for the both of them. 

Eventually, time starts again, and Lewis lets Dick sit on his bed. He seems out of sorts, and Lew has to admit that it makes him nervous. 

“Dick I have to leave,” he says reluctantly. 

“Okay,” he nods, and sighs. 

Lewis has clearly gone crazy, because he leans down and kisses Dick’s forehead. Dick tilts his head upwards, and it’s another moment that doesn’t make sense. Lewis will take what can, however, and before he leaves, he puts his hand on Dick’s cheek. 

“Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay,” Dick nods sleepily. 

When Lewis gets outside, he thinks he may have a heart attack. He hurries to his own room without really noticing his surroundings. 

Lewis pours a drink, and it’s the only thing he recognizes in the whole state of Georgia.


End file.
